


This is how it starts

by Khalehla



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Enemies With Benefits, Fanfic of Fanfic, Hatemance, Lawyers, M/M, Neighbors, Stubborn, slow realisation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-10-18 12:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17581040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khalehla/pseuds/Khalehla
Summary: From enemies-who-hatefuck, to neighbours-with-benefits, to maybe-something-more.A drama in 3 parts.





	1. Permission to keep hating you? Permission denied!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blue_Night](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Night/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Enemy Mine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17522450) by [Blue_Night](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Night/pseuds/Blue_Night). 



> ... thank you for letting me play in your playground - I hope you like it!
> 
> ==  
> Set in Blue_Night's _[Enemy Mine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17522450/chapters/41281103)_ universe, which you should go read because the OCs are adorable and these dorks make me wanna squee. 
> 
> This is a fanfic of a fanfic, or an AU of and AU - I'm very thankful that Blue_night let me borrow the OCs and explore her universe. Enjoy...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernd thinks that this is where it starts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some trigger warnings; chapter summary in end notes

Bernd thinks that this is where it starts.

It’s late and dark inside the house by the time Bernd lets himself into the front door, and it takes him a few seconds to remember that it’s because Oscar was sleeping over a classmate’s house and that Marc-André had taken Oscar when he’d dropped off Alex as well.

The thought of his son makes his heart clench, the awful day finally catching up with him. He stumbles for a moment as he takes off his shoes and coat, then heads to the kitchen to make himself a drink.

As the water boils in the kettle, Bernd sits heavily at his table, face in his hands. He hated days like today; the ones where the couple were bitter and the children were terrified and neither parent even realised how much damage their hate-filled bickering was doing to their children. Days like this made Bernd eternally grateful that even though things had ended with Susi, it was still a clean break; the fact that Oscar didn’t seem too resentful about not having his mum around sometimes made up for the guilt of not having worked hard enough on their relationship.

But oh, he hated days like this when he could see the innocent children suffer the most from something that was none of their fault, and it made Bernd want to wrap his son up in swaddling cloths and hold him forever.

He’s seriously considering calling the parent of the kid’s party to let them know that he’s on the way to pick Oscar up, when the water finally finishes boiling. It’s a welcome distraction; Oscar probably wouldn’t have been happy about being picked up after he’d been looking forward to the sleepover for so long, then the poor boy would probably worry about something being wrong. No, Bernd had to let Oscar have some fun; he was still trying to make up for the grief his feud with Marc had caused so it was the least he owed his son.

Thoughts of Marc make Bernd grimace. Things had been… calm in the past couple of months, which he honestly doesn’t know if that makes everything harder or easier. He knows that Oscar and Alex (and Mr. Heynckes and Mr. Löw and just about everybody) are happy that they’re getting along - or at least not trying to kill each other as they were before - but the effort of being nice to Marc had crossed certain boundaries that Bernd is starting to realise he may not have wanted to cross.

Because it had been _easy_ to stay in the forced civility that they had when they first started coaching their sons’ football team. It had been easy to deliver carefully concealed insults and blame Marc for everything that went wrong. It had been easy to swing from ignoring the thick-as-molasses sexual tension between them, to hate fucking as soon as the boys were out of earshot. And never mind that the sex was actually (toe-curling, mind-blowingly) good, being able to physically take their hate out on each other in some form when they weren’t allowed to punch each other was actually satisfying. Yes, it had been easy to go deal with their relationship when it was in the familiar territory of enemies-who-hatefucked-

_(see, Manu, my sex life is no longer non-existent!)_

-but things had changed recently and Bernd doesn’t know how to feel about it. Yes the kids (and everyone else) were much happier now that he and Marc aren’t declaring their undying hatred for one another, but the almost domesticity of their arrangement now has Bernd confused. He knew how to act when he knew he hated Marc, but seeing him almost daily at work and spending so much time with him outside of work - especially now that Oscar and Alex seemed to have become such good friends, constantly wanting to play over each other’s house after school - makes him flounder. The forced proximity had made him come to an understanding with Marc, but Bernd can’t banish years and years worth of hate towards the man, and even though things had been admittedly quite enjoyably peaceful lately, he can’t trust the truce will last, and he’s just waiting for everything to go back to the venomous spitting relationship they’d always had.

It’s so tiring, and Bernd sometime longs for the simpler life before the ter Stegens moved in next door.

His morose thoughts are interrupted by his doorbell, which makes him startle and nearly drop his teacup. He curses softly, tempted to not answer the door when he realises that there’s only one person who would be at his door at this time of the night. He’s wiping up the mess when his doorbell rings again, and Bernd hisses another curse out before finally heading to the door.

It’s Marc-André alright, wearing training pants and a t-shirt, his ridiculous hair fluffed up and making him look like a fluffy duckling; Bernd wants to both cuddle him and viciously smack Marc for looking so soft in the dim light of the street lamp and making all of Bernd’s complicated emotions towards the insufferable man even more confused.

“Yes?” he says, because it was too late and he was too tired to try to be politer than that.

Marc just raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re home.”

Bernd rolls his eyes. “Yes I am. Need anything?”

Marc frowns. “I saw your light on in the kitchen and thought I’d come over and let you know how the drop off went.”

Bernd nods, because he actually did want to know how Oscar was, and well, he _was_ supposed to be less purposely a dick sometimes. “Sure, come in. I’ve just put the kettle on.”

Marc doesn’t look any less frownier when Bernd steps to the side, standing in the hallway as Bernd shuts the door. “Are you okay?” Marc asks, hand tentatively reaching out before dropping back again to his side.

“Long day,” Bernd mumbles, shoulders bowing at being reminded of just how bad it was.

Marc nods, grimacing sympathetically. “Bad clients?”

Bernd sighs, rubs his face, a shiver running through him. “There were kids,” he whispers to the dark, unable to keep it in as the heavy tiredness takes over. “They were terrified.”

“Shit,” Marc curses softly.

Bernd watches numbly as Marc makes another aborted attempt to reach out, curses again, then, to Bernd’s utter surprise, steps closer and wraps his arms around Bernd.

“I’m so sorry,” Marc says softly. “It’s not your fault.”

Bernd stiffens with a burst of anger, wants to scream _of course it’s not my fault!_ at the stupid man and his stupid platitudes, but words die in his throat when Marc presses his lips to Bernd’s temple and whispers, “It’s so awful, when there are kids. They don’t fucking deserve that. But it’s not your fault, you can’t save them.”

Bernd wants to push away and deny Marc’s stupid words - he wasn’t stupid, okay? He wasn’t trying to save them - but then it hits Bernd suddenly that Marc was right. He knows better, has been in this situation before, but there was something about today, probably the fact that the youngest child was Oscar’s age, that had made the whole situation seem more personal. Bernd chokes down a sob, and to his mortification, crumbles in on Marc and rests his head on Marc’s shoulder.

And Marc, the stupid man, just holds him gently tighter, rubbing his back and whispering soothingly as Bernd breaks down. He doesn’t even know why he’s doing this - it’s not like he’s never had tough clients before - but Bernd can’t help but clutch at the back of Marc’s t-shirt as he screws his eyes against the tears, suddenly hating his clients and their selfish bickering, overcome with guilt about not being a good enough dad for Oscar, and, inexplicably, wishing that he and Susi and had tried harder to give Oscar the family his precious son deserved.

A tiny part of Bernd knows how ridiculous his emotions are at the moment; neither his clients’ situation or the fact that he and Susi didn’t make it work wasn’t really any of his fault. But the stress of the last few months, missing his family all the way in Bietigheim-Bissingen, trying to make sense of what he and Marc are doing, scrambling around to be the best for his son - it’s all finally caught up to him. So now he’s crying into Marc’s shirt in the middle of the night and Bernd is mortified at what’s happening but he can’t seem to pull away.

He doesn’t even know how they’d made it to his living room; one minute they’re standing in his dark hallway and the next minute he’s resting in the vee of Marc’s legs while they lie on the couch, Marc still holding them close. But Bernd’s so fucking tired - of being strong, of pretending that he knows what he’s doing, of trying to keep hating the man holding him - so just this once he gives in. Between one choked sob and the next, Bernd slips into sleep, the feel of long fingers combing through his hair the last thing he remembers before succumbing to unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bernd's clients are having a bitter divorce; there are children caught up in the situation and it makes him angry and emotional and have overwhelming guilt about being a single dad.


	2. The long slippery slope of good intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marc-André didn't mean to stay that long... promise!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playing around with some characterisation here but still heavily influenced by Blue-Night’s original fic.
> 
> But goodness, how did it get so floofy? Anyhoo, here's Marc's pov.

Marc-André didn't mean to stay that long.

The only thing he'd meant to do was give Bernd a chance to get his emotions under control, then slink back to his house before Bernd remembered that he hated Marc's guts, realised he had just ugly-cried all over his sworn enemy, and ended up hating Marc even more. Things had been going so well in last couple of months, and Marc - masochist that he is when it came to one Bernd Leno - was going to luxuriate in the peaceful goings on for as long as he could, happy to pretend that they were one big happy family: he and Bernd working together but separately in their chosen common careers, and their sons growing to be best friends. It's a great fantasy, one that Marc's been indulging in a lot lately, and he really, really wants to preserve it for as long as possible.

Which is why, when Bernd had confessed to a long day and had broken down at the stress he'd obviously been carrying, his only intention was to sit quietly and give Bernd the little comfort he could give, then leave his neighbour alone to get some rest. It was was a good plan; he could update Bernd on the boys tomorrow morning when he/they went to go pick them up at the kids' sleep over. But there's a reason why there's a warning about good intentions, and Marc seemed to have forgotten all that when Bernd had crumbled against him and Marc's brain had decided to take a vacation.

But. But Marc was sometimes desperate for Bernd's attention, and was even disturbingly happy when the only attention Bernd gave him at times was when he was being insulted or when they were having rough, angry sex up against the wall while their boys played in the back yard. He _knows_ it's unhealthy; he's _trying,_ okay?

So. So that meant when Bernd had quite suddenly fallen asleep on him, Marc had this dilemma of either staying put and letting Bernd sleep on him, or waking Bernd up so that they could to their respective beds. Naturally, Marc chose to stay put, because the only time they were wrapped around each other like this was when they were in bed, and even then their touches weren't exactly gentle - quite the opposite. Yeah it's pathetic to want this so badly when he knows Bernd would never let him this close otherwise; he's _trying_ , okay?

Marc pulls Bernd closer to him, shushing the other man when Bernd starts sniffling in his sleep, running his hands up and down Bernd's back soothingly. He doesn't even realise that he's also fallen asleep until he gets an elbow to the kidney and wakes up with a grunt. It takes a couple of seconds to recognise where he is and why he's got a heavy weight wrapped around his mid-section. Marc battles the urge to stay still, but the pain in his neck tells him he needs to move soon or else risk doing some serious damage to himself. Sighing, Marc pushes Bernd's hair away from the sleeping man's face, then tries to gently shake him awake. Bernd mutters something incomprehensible, then rubs his face into Marc's chest, trying to burrow deeper. Marc huffs out a small laugh.

"Bernd, come on, wake up," he whispers, shaking Bernd again. "Gotta get you to bed, it's late."

But Bernd just burrows in deeper. Marc shifts, trying to push himself into a seating position while trying not to jostle Bernd too much.

"Come on, man," Marc tries again. "Your arm's gonna kill you later; don't you wanna be more comfortable?"

The nudging must finally cut through Bernd's sleep, because Bernd raises his head and blinks up at him blearily. "Marc?"

"Yeah baby?"

The word comes out without his permission, and Bernd frowns at him. Marc's about to start apologising for the unconscious slip, but then Bernd says, "You're still here?"

Marc nods, but then realises Bernd probably can't see him. "Yeah, kinda didn't have a choice since you fell asleep on me."

Bernd flinches. "Sorry," he mutters, trying to pull away, but Marc holds on with a firm but gentle grip.

"I wasn't about to leave you, you know."

This makes Bernd frown even more. "Okay?"

"I wanted to stay here with you."

"You did?"

"Make sure you were okay."

"Okay?"

"You were upset, I didn't want you to be upset."

Marc seriously wants to shut up, but he's always been rather stupid around Bernd and he just can't get himself to stop, Bernd sleepily blinking up at him making him long even more for something he knows he can't have. Trying to get the situation under control, he nudges at Bernd again. "You should get out of that suit, get more comfortable and head to bed."

Although Bernd takes his hand when Marc helps him up, Bernd's frown doesn't completely go away. "You came here for a reason; Oscar? How did the drop off go? Was he okay?"

"Oscar was just as excited as Alex and they both completely forgot about me as soon as they got to the party," Marc says, resisting the urge to wipe the dried tear stains on Bernd's cheeks now visible from the lamp light seeping in through the blinds. "They'll be fine until we pick them up tomorrow. Go get some sleep."

Bernd nods, then slowly starts walking towards the door, Marc shuffling behind him. "Thanks," Bernd says, now looking more awake but more awkward; Marc feels saddened by this. "For dropping off Oscar. And for. For-" Bernd waves his hand in the general direction of the living room. "You didn't have to, but I. I really appreciate it. A lot." He sounds so sincere that Marc has to clench his fists in order not to do something stupid like pull Bernd close and kiss him until they were both breathless.

"Anytime," Marc says softly instead.

Bernd just keeps looking at him, a questioning expression on his face, and because Bernd Leno was his biggest weakness, he can't stop the babbling from starting up again. "I mean it. I know I can be an asshole and you hate me but you really can come to me for anything - especially if it's about Oscar - and I promise I won't ask for anything in return I just want to be here for you."

Marc can't say he didn't expect the surprise on Bernd's face; if he were Bernd he probably wouldn't believe Marc's words either. He shrugs in resignation, then reaches for the door, ready to crawl into his own bed. Just before Marc pulls the door behind him, Bernd whispers his name and stops him with a hand to his shoulder. Marc turns his head slowly. "Yeah?"

Bernd blinks at him once, twice, almost confused as to why he's touching Marc; but then he smiles, small but genuine. "Goodnight."

Marc inhales and turns, reaching up slowly to give Bernd a chance to pull away, expecting him to. But Bernd doesn't, not when Marc cups his cheek and not when Marc leans closer, telegraphing his intentions and still giving Bernd a chance to pull away. The kiss is soft, chaste, just a featherlight brushing of lips, the exact opposite of all their previous raging and furious kisses. It lasts only a moment, and when Marc pulls back Bernd's eyes are bright again.

"Goodnight," Marc whispers, forcing himself to let go and turn home.

Two minutes later he's lying in the middle of his king-sized bed, reliving the kiss over and over, wishing he was back next door, pressing more kisses all over pale skin.

"God I'm fucked."

He is. So very, very. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The alternate titles to chapter 1 that I came up with were ‘Release’ and ‘Unclench my fist’. Alternative title to chapter 2 is ‘Positivity’.


	3. Time to hit that reset button

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe all they needed was a different perspective

Bernd wakes with a crick in his neck, cuddling his pillow like a toddler with his favourite toy.  He's also got that awful _I forgot to brush my teeth last night_ taste in his mouth, because that's obviously exactly what happened last night; he'd only had enough energy to strip down before hopping into bed once Marc-André left.

Bernd rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling trying to ignore the swooping in his stomach as he remembers breaking down at Marc's unexpected kindness, recalls how gently Marc had held him close. A part of him is genuinely mortified at the moment of weakness in front of his bitter rival, but another part of him - a small, quiet part - is also unexpectedly pleased that rather than mock him for taking work too seriously, Marc had been understanding and empathetic, comforting him instead. It's not what Bernd would expect Marc to do; in fact, if their roles had been reversed, Bernd is self-aware enough to realise that he would have probably hightailed it out of their, not knowing how to deal with an emotional rival and choosing to be as far away as possible rather than deal with the awkwardness. Marc had stayed, though, and in a moment of clarity, Bernd realises that this wasn't the first time Marc had surprised him by doing the exact opposite of what Bernd expected.

At the beginning, when they had been forced to work with each other, Bernd had bitterly expected Marc favour his own son and to take his hatred of Bernd out on Oscar, and Bernd had been ready and willing to fight to the death to protect his son from any malice Marc would through their way. What had happened instead was that Marc hadn't shown any noticeable preference against Oscar, praising and correcting Oscar as much as he did Alex and the other children in the team. Bernd had been suspicious of course, assuming Marc was saving it all up for some future moment and still prepared to fight the man viciously if need be. But even now, after all this time, Marc was still nothing but fondness to Oscar, letting Oscar and Alex play together, even claiming last night that all he wanted to do was be there for them.

Bernd puts his arm over his eyes and groans; he's frustrated, and not necessarily only about what happened last night. He doesn't want to think about all the kindnesses that Marc had been exhibiting to both Oscar and him, always too keen to find fault and another reason to hold on to his hatred of the man. But now that he's had this chance to think about it, he can't help but realise how blind he'd been in the past few months, how willing he'd been to assume that those caring moments were just opportunities that Marc was using to lull them into a false sense of security before finding the perfect time to fuck them over completely.

"I've completely lost it," Bernd mutters to himself, not exactly enjoying this moment of self-reflection and seeing how unfair he had been in some circumstances. Not all, though. Because Marc really  _was_ a dick at times, what with his condescending attitude and snide comments and sarcastic remarks. But. But, Bernd has to (rather reluctantly) admit that at least half those times were probably more as a reaction to  _Bernd_ being a dick first as opposed to Marc just being a dick in general. Last night also did a great job in highlighting just how compassionate and understanding Marc could be, and Bernd winces when he thinks about how many times Marc had offered up  kindness but had had it thrown back in his face. Despite the fact that Bernd knows that Marc is no angel and could be a complete asshole at times, he quietly admits to himself now that Marc could maybe be not as bad as Bernd had always made him out to be. Could it be that the reason why their animosity had survived even this long after working together had been because Bernd had been unwilling to see anything other than the villain he'd always believed Marc to be, too stubborn to give his sworn enemy a chance? He wonders if he'd had the opportunity to find peace for himself and Oscar, but he'd wilfully turned it aside. He's not normally this vindictive, and he likes to think that he's matured quite a bit since high school - especially now that he's a parent and has responsibility for raising his son -  but this whole situation with Marc was just so  _complicated_ , he honestly doesn't know he's doing half the time. Marc's just so bloody  _confusing_ , pushing all of Bernd's buttons one moment, then checking to make sure Bernd was okay the next. Why couldn't Marc just be an asshole all the time so that Bernd could be justified in hating his guts? Now Bernd is feeling  _guilty_ that maybe he'd been way too harsh on Marc, and he honestly has no idea how to make things better.

Groaning some more, Bernd forces himself up off the bed, still too tired to deal with all these messy emotions; he needed to get himself together before he has to go pick up Oscar. The thought of Oscar makes Bernd miss his son sharply, and he can't wait to see his boy again. He knows he'll have to face Marc soon as well, but for now Bernd wants to concentrate on getting ready and maybe once he'd showered and had some food, the solution to his Marc problem will miraculously reveal itself. 

A guy can hope, he thinks, throwing out a random prayer to any and all deities out there in the off chance that one of them will hear him and help him out.

Unfortunately, fates and gods don't seem to be too bothered with Bernd's problems, because Marc-André's putting something in the boot of his car by the time Bernd heads out, looking soft and handsome in faded jeans and a baby-blue knit sweater. It makes Bernd stumble, surprised at his reaction to Marc's appearance, and he makes enough noise that it gets Marc's attention. For a second their eyes meet and they both freeze, before Marc blinks and closes the boot, making his away around to the drivers side. They stand there awkwardly, Marc with keys dangling from his hand and Bernd still frozen at his doorstep.

"Hey," Bernd says finally, cringing inwardly at how squeaky his voice sounds, forcing himself to start walking.

"Hey," Marc says in return, then nothing.

_Yay, awkward._

"You picking Alex up?"

Bernd wants to slap himself, because, of course Marc would be about to pick his son up from the party.

"Yeah. Um, and you? You're picking up Oscar?"

"Yeah." Marc being just as awkward as him made Bernd feel a tad better. "So um, I'll see you there, I guess?"

"What? I thought- Of course not, you're right. Yeah, I'll see you there. I guess."

"Yeah. I guess?"

Bernd has absolutely no idea why they're parroting each other like a couple of broken records, and he's just about to jump into the safety of his car, when Marc blurts out, "Unlessyouwanttogotogether."

Bernd squints at him. "Huh?"

For some reason Marc blushes bright red, which was adorable but at the same time, seriously confusing.

"Unless you want to." Marc stops, clears his throat, then tries says slowly, "Unless you want to go together?"

It's said tentatively, almost as though Marc is expecting Bernd to say no but is determined to ask anyway, and for a second, Bernd experiences something like déjà vu. There's a distant memory of Marc asking him questions in the past in the same tone - sodas after the boys won (or lost) a game, coffee at work, an offer to take Oscar to practice when Bernd had a busy day - and all the  _no thanks_ that Bernd had thrown back without even stopping to think why Marc was asking. He can see now, the set in Marc's jaw, the slight downward turn of his shoulders, how Marc is just ready to be rejected once again; something in Bernd just flares in anger.

No, he wasn't going to be like that anymore. He'd told himself that while shampooing his hair and making himself breakfast. He wasn't going to be a stubborn, vindictive and defensive asshole who always assumed the worst; he was going to be more open and less suspicious, even when his instincts screamed at him to just hop in his car and leave before things got more complicated than they already were. Bernd takes a breath and slowly unclenches the fist he didn't even know he made, trying to smile at Marc. "Sure, why not? We're going to the same place anyway."

Marc, rather predictably, stares at him in surprise. "Really?"

Bernd shrugs. "Unless you changed your mind?"

"No!" Marc exclaims, hand moving toward him then back to his side again. "I would ah- love the company. And um, yeah, we're going to the same place, right? Might as well save gas?"

Bernd can't help it, he laughs rolls his eyes. "A fifteen minute drive isn't really going to make a dent in your tank, ter Stegen."

Marc flushes some more, but this time he's grinning. "I'm a single dad with a kid in school; gotta save money where I can."

Bernd just rolls his eyes again, and instead of answering, crosses over into his neighbour's yard, hopping into the passenger seat as Marc hooks his phone up to the car's bluetooth and sets the address into his gps. He expects it to be awkward, but once they're out on the road, Marc starts telling him about the drop off yesterday and Bernd finds himself relaxing as they talk about their sons' classmate and the kid's parents. He's surprised at how normal it all feels, how nice it is to talk to someone who understands exactly how he feels - which is unsurprising considering Marc is pretty much in exactly the same situation Bernd's in. He thinks again about his past loneliness, how although he loved his family and friends and how they were so supportive, he sometimes found himself wanting more, wanting someone to share the simple, day-to-day things with, having some _close._ As the conversation moves on to complaining about the helicopter parents in their kids' football team, Bernd wonders when was the last time he talked to someone who just _got_ him the way Marc seems to. 

Bernd mentally shakes himself, trying not to get caught up in the moment; a peaceful fifteen minute car trip was _not_ a basis to get all moony over Marc. They had too many years of bad history to just reset their relationship into something more... _intimate_ so quickly. But as they reach their destination and Marc parks, giving Bernd a quick smile before hopping out and waiting for him at the sidewalk, as they walk shoulder to shoulder to the door and wait almost impatiently for someone to answer the door, as they both crouch down when their boys run up to them and throw themselves into their arms, Bernd thinks, _yeah, I could get used to this._

Maybe a reset wouldn't be so bad, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue, once again, thank you. Sending you all my hugs.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I _do_ have a [tumblr account ](https://khalehla.tumblr.com) for my writings and random ficlets. I may even resurrect it, now. I also have a [pillowfort ](https://www.pillowfort.io/khalehla) for both for both MCU (mostly Stucky-related) and men's football RPF. Come say hi. Prompts welcome.


End file.
